


You get finger-banged by Rose Tico

by do_it_to_julia



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bad Sex, Consensual Non-Consent, Except not BAD bad, F/F, Just awkward and dorky and cute, Lesbian Sex, Sexual Roleplay, Terrible holoporn-inspired dialogue, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-05-30 07:41:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15092222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/do_it_to_julia/pseuds/do_it_to_julia
Summary: A Rose Tico/Reader fic.Honestly, I don't know what else you're expecting from a fic with this title.





	You get finger-banged by Rose Tico

You're in a locked storage room at the new Resistance base. You've made doubly sure it's locked, because you don't want a repeat of last time (which Dameron _still_ won't let you forget, the bastard).

"Are you sure about this?" Rose asks you. She has that adorable little wrinkle between her eyebrows that always appears when she's worried. It's clear that this is the first time she's done this kind of thing, and her concern is actually a little touching, because the fantasy she described to you is quite a vanilla one, all things considered. You lean over and kiss her on the nose.

"I'm sure," you say. Her smile is bright and sudden, and lifts your heart.

"Okay then," she replies. Then she takes a steeling breath, aims the toy blaster at your head, and says, awkwardly but enthusiastically, "Hands up, enemy scum."

You raise your hands slowly, and, for effect, give her a defiant cock of the chin. "I'm surprised the Resistance can still afford blasters," you quip. Rose goes red, and you're not sure whether it's just an _oh stars we're actually doing this_ blush or a very specific physiological reaction to your _excellent_ Imperial accent.

Rose was very specific when describing this scenario (and also very, very red). You would be a Rebel and an Imperial, not... anything else closer to home. The loss of her sister still cuts her deeply. The question of whether this fantasy is a way of dealing with her loss is one you'll leave to the philosophers.

"Shut up!" Rose blurts. "I've got you now, and I'm going to learn exactly what you're doing here, and also your plans for the... all the other stuff," she fumbles.

"I'll _never_ tell you where I put the plans for the Death Star," you prompt.

"Well then," says Rose, with renewed confidence, "I'm just going to have to search you for them."

You bite your lip. You can't help it. As she moves in on you to slowly unzip the front of your maintenance suit, she pushes the tip of the fake blaster against your throat in a surprisingly vicious move. It's not painful, though, and the unexpected forcefulness of the gesture causes heat to pool between your legs. This is a new side of Rose you're seeing now, and it's, well... really fucking hot, actually.

Eyes on yours, she slides down the zipper pull, revealing the tight tank-top you're wearing beneath, and you shrug the suit from your shoulders at her command. Next goes your belt - Rose stands close to you as she unbuckles it and lets it drop, the rest of the suit with it. Her lips are pressed together in concentration, her eyes bright and focused. You're in nothing but vest and panties now, and her gaze rolls down over your body before she reaches out to push the tank-top up over your midriff. Shivers pass over your skin at the press of her hand.

"I'm gonna have to do a full strip-search," she warns. You bite back a smile.

"Do what you must, Rebel scum. I'll never talk."

"We'll see about that," she says, cheeks flushed now, and slides her hand upwards to cup one of your tits, her palm soft and firm on the yielding flesh. You give her what you hope is your sexiest look of defiance, but you can't help the small gasp that escapes your lips as she teases at your nipple. Rose leans in to capture your parted lips, kissing you forcefully, and if you hadn't been unbelievably wet already, you would be now. Almost without thinking, your body presses against hers in your desperation for more touch.

"So," Rose purrs as she breaks off, giving your breast another gentle squeeze. "Our proud Imperial spy is a slut for Rebel girls."

"I'll won't submit," you tell her, with every intention to submit, and, a little disappointingly, Rose steps away. She gestures to the floor with her blaster.

"On the ground," she snarls. "Hands above your head."

You lie with your legs slightly parted, body thrumming with desire as she kneels down and ties your wrists together. You note with a spark of affection that her hands are just as gentle as always, and you bite back another smile as she presses her palm against your sex, grinding down on the exact right spot through the fabric of your underwear.

"Ready to talk yet, Imperial scum?" she asks. You shake your head. "Fine. I think you'll find that our interrogation techniques are _very_ hard to resist."

With a heated and slightly predatory smirk, Rose crawls round and sits between your parted thighs. She slides your panties aside and teases a fingertip infuriatingly between your lower lips. "You're wet for me already. I can't believe Imperial girls are so easy," she mocks, and you resist the urge to try to push yourself onto those deft fingers of hers.

It's difficult to gather your thoughts enough to fully participate in the fantasy now. As she slides inside, you can't help but let out a quiet moan, shifting your hips to try and get some more friction against your clit, and Rose grins triumphantly. "I knew I'd get you moaning for me eventually," she purrs, and leans over you, pressing her lips to yours once more.

You can feel the swell of her breasts through her clothing, pushing softly down on yours as she forces her tongue between your willing lips. After a moment, she shifts position and starts moving her hand, her fingers driving back and forth inside you, slick and hot, and as she pushes your shirt up to your shoulders with her free hand your back seems to arch of its own accord; she's barely started touching your properly but already you can feel the trembling build of pleasure inside yourself, each brush against your clit sending jolts of pleasure through your lower body. When she finally presses her thumb against that point of ecstasy, you're done for; you grind up against her and come with a cry, tightening around her, your climax echoing into the furthest reaches of your fingers and toes.

Rose fingers you through your orgasm until you're too sensitive to bear any more. Then she grins and gently pulls away to lie beside you, her cheeks still flushed as you catch your breath in slowing gasps.

"Was that okay?" she asks, breaking character, and you can't help but laugh.

"It was amazing. Do you want me to-?"

Rose pecks you on the cheek, then on the lips. "Let's give you a few minutes to recover," she teases. "If my captured Imperial isn't going to talk, I want to see what else she can do with her lips..."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a big fan of a good old-fashioned frigging. I'm less confident when it comes to writing about it. Advice on how to improve is more than welcome!


End file.
